


Healing

by syd_anderson



Category: Law & Order: SVU, NCIS
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 21:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syd_anderson/pseuds/syd_anderson
Summary: NCIS SVU crossover. The NCIS team gets called to assist SVU when a Marine is found dead at the hands of his prisoner. The case brings back painful memories for Ziva. Can Olivia get her to finally open up? This story takes place during what was the 2009-2010 television season...so that's Season 7 of NCIS (after Somalia) and Season 11 of SVU. Originally written in 2011.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a description of physical violence, sexual assault, and lesbian sex. Do not continue if any of this will offend you.

A woman in her twenties sobs crouched in the fetal position in the corner of a dark, damp room saturated with the scent of blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids. She gently rocks back and forth and mumbles indecipherable syllables. Her right eye is black and blue, but is in the yellowish stage of healing. Her once blond hair is matted and stained with blood. Her clothes are soiled, bloody, and torn. Her eyes suddenly widen as she hears footsteps approaching. She stiffens and backs further into the corner, continuing to press her back against the wall as if sheer willpower were enough to break the bonds of physics. The footsteps get louder and pause when a familiar metal clang is heard as the door locks are forcefully opened. She cringes at the sound which reverberates throughout the room, knowing that nothing good ever comes from visits. The door opens and a man slowly walks in, locking the padlock on the bar across the door behind him and placing the key in his pants pocket. He is 6’2” and muscular. Several tattoos are visible on his arms through his t-shirt, including the emblem of the eagle, globe, and anchor worn by Marines.

“Get up,” he demands. She remains frozen. “Get up!” He yells as he grabs a hold of her upper arm and flings her up as if she were a rag doll. Her legs go weak and she begins to succumb to the frailty of her own body. Recognizing this, he picks her up and slams her, face down, across a nearby table. She lets out a whimper. She knows what is going to happen, but also knows that there is nothing she can do to stop it. He pulls down her already ripped and soiled pants and slaps her exposed, blood- and dirt-stained bottom. He removes his belt and whips it against her flesh. After several lashes, he unbuttons his pants and releases his engorged self and pounds it into her as hard as he can. As he thrusts with all his weight, she lays there, a sole tear falling onto the wooden table top. At this point, she can no longer recall how many times she’s been in this position, or other similar ones, at the hand of his man. She had given up resisting and fighting long ago as it only angered him and resulted in more torture. She has already decided that she is prepared to die, that she, nor anyone, does not deserve to live like this. As she dreams about death, she notices something different...his combat knife that he used so many times on her and usually carried on his belt was there on the table. He must have gotten complacent and put it there before the lashings.

He eventually finishes inside her and flips her over. She can see that his mouth is moving, but none of his words reach her ears.

She contemplates grabbing the knife, but knows that the odds are in his favor. After some thought, she realizes that she has nothing to lose...either she’ll kill him or he will kill her, but the pain and the suffering will end.

With a surprising burst of energy and in one swift movement, she grabs the knife and slashes it across his stomach. This stuns him long enough for her to get in a thrust to his neck. He throws her to the ground and the knife flies from her hand. He falls to his knees, his hands wrapped around the open wound on his neck. Blood pulses out between his fingers with every heartbeat. He stumbles towards her, but succumbs to his injury and falls face down on the floor. The woman grabs the knife, rushes over to him and stabs him repeatedly in the back, screaming and sobbing, as all of her raw emotions run free. When her arms are too tired to continue, she throws the knife into the corner. She fishes through the pockets of the pants draped around his ankles and removes a key. She struggles to make it to the door and removes the padlock, but pauses when she goes to open the door.

After what feels like an eternity trapped at the whim of a madman, she’s at a loss as to what to do next. Feeling lost and exhausted, she backs up against the wall and slides down to the floor.

After an unknown amount of time, she jerks awake as the door flies open and several figures rush in. A female rushes to her and crouches at her side. She is wearing a Kevlar vest with “POLICE” boldly across the front. Detective Olivia Benson speaks to her, but the words go unrecognized as the beaten and battered woman falls unconscious.

“Call a bus!” the attractive policewoman yells.

“And the M.E.,” mumbles her partner, Detective Elliot Stabler, standing over the dead body.


	2. Chapter 2

In the bullpen at NCIS headquarters in Washington, DC, the agents of the Major Case Response Team are sitting at their respective desks. Probationary Agent Ziva David is watching ZNN live news feed on her computer. Special Agent Timothy McGee is creating a new computer program that automatically plots locations of purchases from credit card and bank statements on an interactive map. The third member of the team, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, is constructing a menagerie of paper airplanes which he flies at the other two agents. The team leader, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, quickly walks in. 

“Grab your gear. We’ve got a dead Marine,” he states. The team immediately stops what they’re doing and collect their backpacks and weapons. “Grab your toothbrush, too. We might be awhile.”

“Boss, where are we going?” asks McGee.

“New York City,” Gibbs replies.

As he collects his overnight bag, Tony starts singing in his best Sinatra impression, “Start spreading the news, I’m leaving to-.” He abruptly stops when he notices the stare from Gibbs. “Sorry, Boss.”

“Is this about the Marine who was holding that woman captive?” asks Ziva.

“Yep,” answers Gibbs as Ziva looks off. 

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs states.

“Yes, Boss?” 

“You and McGee get the car. We’ll meet you downstairs,” replies Gibbs.

“I’m driving, McGrandpa,” Tony says to McGee as they leave in the elevator. 

Gibbs collects his belongings and turns to Ziva, “David.” He motions with his index finger for her to follow. They wait a minute in silence for the elevator to arrive and then enter. Once the doors close with them inside, Gibbs activates the emergency stop.

“Are you gonna be able to handle this case?” he inquires.

“I am fine.”

“If this case is gonna be a problem, you can stay and work the forensics with Abby,” he offers.

“I am fine, Gibbs” she insists as she reaches past him to activate the elevator.

Frustrated, Gibbs slams the button, abruptly stopping the elevator again and approaches her, their faces only inches apart. He knows that this is the first case like this that they’ve encountered since her capture in Somalia and her wounds are still healing. “IF, at any point, you’re not fine, I need you to tell me immediately. That’s an order.” She breaks his gaze, looks down at the floor, and nods. He backs away and restarts the elevator.

Gibbs and Ziva enter the parking garage and are met by Tony and McGee in their navy blue Dodge Charger. They add their bags to the several already in the trunk and Gibbs motions to Tony to get in the back seat.

As they start driving, Tony asks, "So, what do we got, McGeek?"

McGee reads off information on the case from his iPad. "Gunnery Sergeant Shawn O’Donnell, 26. Served 1 tour in Iraq, 2 in Afghanistan. Never married. No kids. He was found stabbed to death an hour ago by NYPD’s Special Victims Unit who were investigating a series of kidnappings and assaults. They found a woman with him in her 20’s. She's at Bellevue and hasn't spoken a word to anyone. NYPD ran her prints and got no hits.”

“SVU’s been working this case for months so they’ll be assisting us,” states Gibbs.

Several hours later, the agents pull up at the row house containing the crime scene. They put on their standard issue NCIS windbreakers and hats, grab their backpacks containing their investigative gear, and enter the brownstone. The NYPD officer at the door directs them to the basement.

As they enter, they are met with a pungent odor that slaps them in the face. Ziva, who is purposefully the last one down the stairs, stops in her tracks. She knows exactly what that smell is; she lived in it for months in Somalia. It’s a combination of decaying blood, stale semen, sweat, and human excrement. The familiar odor triggers a flashback of her tied to a chair, bloody and beaten.

“Hi. I’m Detective Elliot Stabler with Special Victims,” he says reaching his hand out and snapping her from the flashback.

“Agent Ziva David,” she replies flatly as she shakes his hand. 

Ziva looks around to see that the rest of her team have already started surveying the crime scene, taking pictures, and writing notes.

“Walk us through it, Stabler,” Gibbs requests.

Stabler brings the agents up to speed, “We finally got a lead on the case and tracked O’Donnell to this location. He inherited this building when his parents died in a car crash. When we got here, the door was closed, but unlocked.” Motioning, “We came in and found O’Donnell here, face down. His back covered in stab wounds and his pants around his ankles. We found the knife here on the floor. And, the woman was on the floor over here. She went unconscious and my partner rode with her to the hospital and is still there with her. She hasn’t said a thing.”

Gibbs instructs, “David, go to the hospital and see if you can get her to talk.”

Ziva nods to her boss and stands there stunned for a moment. She had a feeling Gibbs might do that, use her as leverage to break the victim, but still wasn’t expecting it.

“Agent David, one of the unis upstairs can give you a lift to the hospital,” Stabler says to her.

“Unis?” she asks, puzzled.

“Uniform officers,” Stabler replies.


	3. Chapter 3

Ziva arrives at Bellevue Hospital and navigates her way to the woman's room. She peers through the glass window in the door. The gowned, sleeping woman is badly beaten and there are visible cuts sewn back together on her arms and head. Sitting in a chair off to the side, with her back toward the door, is Detective Benson. Ziva takes a slow, deep breath trying to convince herself that she can do this. She was a trained Mossad officer, an assassin. She's seen so much during her time as an officer and agent, but deep down she knows that this may be the most difficult case of her life. What happened in Somalia stole away a piece of her. It continues to eat her up from the inside because she refuses to talk about what really happened. She even gave a Swiss cheese, sugar-coated account in her official report to Gibbs and Director Vance, as well as in her multiple psych evaluations since the incident. Ziva was Mossad after all; she knows how to hide her true feelings and manipulate others. But, the truth is that she knows the effect that keeping it bottled up is having on her: the sleepless nights, the anxiety, the depression. She wants to talk about it; she just doesn't know to who. She doesn’t want anyone at work to treat her more different than they already do...and it’s not like she has any friends in the US outside of work. She takes another deep breath and opens the door to peek her head in. She whispers, "Are you Detective Benson?"

Olivia gets up and walks over to her. "Yes. Olivia. Are you NCIS?"

“Agent Ziva David,” she informs as she displays her badge. “Shall we talk outside?”

Olivia and Ziva step into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “Did you come from the crime scene?”

“Yes. Your partner walked us through it.” Ziva pauses and motions to the unidentified woman. “How is she doing?”

“She’s stable. It took over 200 stitches to close all of her injuries. She has knife wounds covering her chest, back and extremities, most of which are partially healed already. She has countless old and new bruises, suggesting that O’Donnell held her hostage for at least a week. Although from her malnutrition, the doctor was estimating that it could be longer. The rape kit was positive for semen and a showed a high level of trauma. We already sent it off to your lab for testing.” Olivia pauses when she realizes that Ziva is no longer looking at her, but staring past her at the victim with a sorrowful gaze. “Agent David?” 

Ziva looks up at her. 

Olivia continues, “Are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

Olivia looks at her confused. She can see it in her eyes that she is definitely not fine.

Changing the subject, Ziva asks, “Has she been awake at all? Did she say anything?”

“She was awake briefly about an hour ago, but she wouldn’t speak at all to me or the any of the medical staff. It’s like she’s in her own isolated world.”

“She is,” Ziva replies flatly.

Olivia picks up on her disdain, but continues, “Since she wouldn’t give us her name, I ran her prints while she was sleeping hoping to catch a break, but got nothing.”

“I would like to talk to her when she wakes up,” Ziva states.

“Sure, no problem. Although, I’m not sure how much luck you’ll have. We also have a shrink who’ll be stopping by later today.” She stops when she sees the look of utter confusion on Ziva’s face.

“Why do you want a small person?” Ziva asks, stumped.

Now Olivia is the one confused. Then, she gets it, “A shrink? Sorry, a psychiatrist.”

“Oh. American idioms can be tricky sometimes,” Ziva says.

“It’s taking us longer to get one in because our resident psychiatrist is male and she was getting extremely agitated whenever a man entered her room. So, were bringing in a female one.” There’s a long awkward pause filled with diverted stares and fidgeting hands. “So, Agent David, how long have you been with NCIS?”

“This is only my second year as an agent with NCIS, but for five years before that I was with them as a Mossad liaison officer,” she replies.

“Mossad. Wow, your team must appreciate that.”

“What do you mean?” Ziva asks.

Olivia explains, “That your male teammates must not feel like they need to watch over and protect you. There’s been times when El, uh Detective Stabler, has chosen to check on me first before going after the perp. We’ve had some difficulty with that the past few years and no matter what I do, I can’t seem the shake the fact they all view me as woman first and a cop second.”

“I have spent years in the Israeli army and in Mossad. I have killed countless men, yet I still feel that if I show any emotion to my team, I would be viewed as a weak woman.”

“Well, I guess I should stop trying then!” Olivia chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

Ziva’s attention shifts as she sees that the unidentified woman is starting to stir and awaken. Ziva cautiously enters the room, so as not to frighten the woman, and stands next to her bed. Olivia follows, stopping at the foot of the bed. The patient opens her eyes and glances towards each of the women, but without meeting their eyes. 

In a soft, slow, and caring voice rarely heard from Ziva, she says, “My name is Ziva. I am a federal agent.” She motions towards the foot of the bed, “And this is Olivia. She is a police detective. You are safe now in a hospital. Can you tell us your name?”

There is no response. The unidentified woman stares off past Ziva. After what seems like an eternity of silence, but was probably only two minutes, Ziva turns to Olivia. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be right outside,” Detective Benson states as she somewhat reluctantly leaves the room, puzzled as to why Agent David wants to be alone with the victim.

“May I sit here next to you? I am not going to hurt you. I just would like to talk to you and maybe, if you feel comfortable enough, you can talk to me?” Ziva waits for any sign of recognition but does not receive any. She rephrases her question, “I am going to sit here next to you. If you do not want me to, let me know and I will not.” Again, there is no response. “Okay,” she says softly as she slowly and gently sits on the bed next to the woman. 

Olivia, who is watching through the door, is shocked at this bold move by the agent and even more shocked that it did not elicit a fear response in the woman.

“That was a big step. You did great,” Ziva states, reassuring the woman.

There’s still no response.

Ziva continues, “I want you to know that you can talk to me and trust me. I know that is a lot to ask, especially after all that you have been through.” She pauses, her head spinning with the task before her, what she’s been painfully trying so hard to avoid since it happened. At last, she knows what she has to do and reluctantly forces herself with all of her might to do the one thing that has scared her so much--talk. “You are probably feeling a lot of emotions right now: loneliness, fear, depression, anger, hatred, regret. Maybe you are wishing that you died in that basement. You are right to feel that. Do not deny those feelings.” She pauses and looks down at her fidgeting hands. When she looks up, the woman’s eyes are waiting to meet hers. “I would like to tell you about myself, if that is okay?” Ziva asks. 

The woman, still looking at Ziva, ever so slightly nods her head. Detective Benson is stunned at the progress Ziva is making in such a short amount of time, wondering how she is breaking through to the victim.

Ziva continues, pushing as hard as she can to get the words out, “Over a year ago, I...I was held captive by a man. He wanted information from me that I could not give him. He tortured me. He beat me. He starved me. He cut me. He burnt me with his cigarettes.” She pauses and tries, unsuccessfully, to fight back the emotions. “He and his men raped me. They killed a part of me.” She wipes the tears that have welled up in her eyes and watches as a sole tear falls down the unidentified woman’s cheek. Ziva places a hand on hers. “I understand the torture inside that you are feeling and I want to help you. But, for me to do that you have to talk to me.” 

The woman nods slightly, then asks, “How do I know that’s the truth and you don’t just say that to everyone to win their sympathy?”

Ziva doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes a moment and then stands up and turns around with her back to the woman. She reaches up over her shoulders with both hands and pulls up her windbreaker and shirt, revealing her back, covered in slashes and burn scars.

“Will it get better?,” the woman asks sadly.

Ziva takes a deep breath, unsure of the true answer to that question. Ziva looks up and notices that Detective Benson is staring at the scars on the exposed skin just above her pants. Ziva blushes and hastily releases and tugs down her shirt. Turning back to the woman, “It will get better, but it will take time.”

“Thank you,” she replies genuinely.

Ziva nods and asks, “What is your name?”

“Natasha. Natasha Sachenko.”

“Natasha,” replies Ziva. “Do you think that you can tell me and Olivia what happened? She has experience with cases like yours and I will be here with you. We can go as slow as you need.”

Natasha looks over at Detective Benson behind the door, and after a moment agrees.

Ziva turns and motions for Olivia to come in. She does and walks up to the foot of the bed.

“This is Natasha,” Ziva informs Detective Benson.

“Hi, Natasha,” Olivia says. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Natasha slowly and painfully recants, “It was nighttime. I was walking home from the grocery store a couple blocks from my apartment and someone grabbed me from behind. He pushed me into an alley.” She pauses. “The next thing I can remember was waking up in that room.”

Olivia inquires, “What grocery store were you at?”

“D’Agostino’s by Washington Square Park.”

Scribbling notes on her pocket notepad, Olivia asks, “And where is your apartment?”

“The Village, but it happened on Waverly somewhere between 6th and 7th,” Natasha replies.

“Do you know what day that was?” Olivia probes.

Natasha replies, “Yeah, um. It was the 4th.” Olivia looks down at her notepad, writing. “What’s today?”

“The 16th,” Ziva replies sadly.

“Oh,” Natasha states flatly.

Olivia continues probing, “What do you remember from when you came to in the basement?”

Choppily, Natasha recalls, "I woke up and was tied up on top of the table. My mouth was taped shut... I have no concept of time while I was there, but everything felt like an eternity. At first, he would just come in and cut me with his knife. He didn't give me any food or water for awhile. Once I was weak he 'allowed' me to be untied...as long as I behaved. I tried resisting him...once...and he just beat me." Natasha can no longer hold in her emotions and starts crying.

Ziva gently takes her hand as Olivia tries to reassure the victim, "Natasha, what happened was not your fault." After another moment, Olivia asks, "Natasha, did he rape you?"

Ziva is shocked at this brazen question and why she would ask it when the answer was obvious.

With her eyes on Ziva's, Natasha reluctantly answers, "Yes."

"How many times?" Olivia presses further.

"8. I think," she states as tears fall down her cheeks.

Olivia continues questioning, "What happened today?"

Natasha remembers, "I was sitting on the floor in the corner of the room when he came in. He grabbed and threw me on the table. He...he pulled down my pants and whipped me with his belt. Then he..."

"It is okay," Ziva reassures after a moment.

"While he was...you know...I saw his knife lying on the table next to me. When he was, uh, done, he turned me over. I grabbed the knife and cut him across his stomach. Then I stabbed him in his neck and he threw me to the floor..."

Olivia pushes, "What happened next?"

"He fell to the floor. I took the knife and..."

"And then?" Asks Ziva.

"I stabbed him...in the back," Natasha states flatly. Slowly, “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” states Olivia.

Natasha looks down for a moment. "The next thing I can remember was people charging in. " She looks at Olivia, "It was you."

"Yes," Olivia confirms.

"You saved me. Thank you."

Olivia nods. The door to the room opens and a petite, red-headed, female doctor walks in. “Hi, I’m Dr. Scully. I’m going to need a moment with my patient and then she really needs some rest. Can you continue this in the morning?”

“Sure,” replies Olivia.

Ziva stands up and removes a business card from her pocket. She hands it to Natasha, “My cell number is on here. If you need anything, or just want to talk, you can give me a call. Anytime.”

Natasha thanks her and Olivia and Ziva step out into the hallway. Olivia takes out her phone and skims through the text message from Stabler. “Your team already finished up at the crime scene and is heading to the precinct now. I’ll give you a lift.”

Ziva thanks the detective and the two women walk in an awkward silence to the car. Once inside, Olivia breaks the silence. “Agent David, you did a great job getting the vic to open up.”

“Ziva. Thank you.”

After a moment of silence, Olivia continues, “Ziva, have you talked to anyone else about what happened to you?”

Ziva, shocked, looks quickly over at Olivia and asks, “How did you know?”

“It’s my job,” replies Olivia. “You know, I can recommend some counselors. There’s one in particular who was very helpful to me when I was assaulted while undercover.”

After a pause, Ziva states, “Thank you. And no, I had not told anyone else what had happened.” She pauses. Maybe it’s because she already opened up to Natasha, or because Olivia said that she was also assaulted, or a combination of the two, but Ziva finally feels like it is okay to talk about it. “Last year, I was held captive by a group of terrorists for several months. My team rescued me, but still do not know what...what they did to me.”

“I can see that you’re still in pain. I’m not suggesting that you tell your team...I’m suggesting that you tell someone. I know it sounds cliche, but talking about it does help. What happened to you isn’t going to go away; it never will. But there will come a point where you’ll be able to live with what happened.”

Ziva doesn’t know what to say, amazed at the caring words and hope coming from someone she just met. After a moment she says, “Olivia?”

“Yeah?”

“What about you?” Ziva asks, blushing. “Can I talk to you?”

Olivia gently reaches over and places a soft hand on Ziva’s arm. “Of course,” she replies resulting in a small smirk from Ziva. Olivia continues, “Um, we’re almost to the precinct, but why don’t we get together when we’re done with work and do dinner.”

“Sure,” states Ziva. “Thank you.” Olivia smiles at her as they pull into the precinct parking lot.


	4. Chapter 4

Back at the SVU Precinct, NCIS Special Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee are gathered in the squad room with Detective Stabler. On one of the large, flat screen monitors is the NCIS goth forensics specialist, Abigail Sciuto, via video conference, dressed in a black skull t-shirt with pigtails and a dog collar. Detective Benson and Agent David join in the rear of the huddle, unnoticed, as a highly caffeinated Abby finishes, “Gibbs, like I said, I just received the evidence like a half hour ago. The DNA analysis of the blood and semen samples are being run now. My babies don’t run on Caff-Pow, there’s no way to speed it up. All I can tell you is that there were two blood types on the knife used to kill O’Donnell, A positive and O negative, which matches the blood types of O’Donnell and Jane Doe.”

Ziva interjects, “She is no longer a Jane Doe.” Everyone turns to look at the two recent additions to the huddle. “Her name is Natasha Sachenko,” Ziva finishes. She is met by eager looks for more information, but hesitates. Instead, Ziva provides the introductions, “Detective Olivia Benson. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Special Agent Timothy McGee, our forensics specialist Abigail Sciuto, and Tony DiNozzo.” 

“Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,” Tony coyly adds taking Olivia’s hand. “It’s a pleasure.” Gibbs slaps his flirtatious agent on the back of his head and they exchange hand shakes and a friendly wave to Abby over the video feed.

Bringing everyone back on task, Olivia informs, “Sachenko was attacked back on the night of the 4th while on her way home from the D’Agostino’s near Washington Square Park. She thinks it happened somewhere on Waverly Place between 6th and 7th Avenue. The vic said he held her captive in that room since then and he both physically and sexually assaulted her.”

“What happened today?” Gibbs asks while trying to get a read from Ziva.

Dominating, Olivia offers, “Sachenko said the perp left his knife on the table while he was raping her. She grabbed it and slashed him across his stomach and then stabbed him in the neck. He threw her down and then collapsed to the floor. She picked up the knife and stabbed him repeatedly in the back.” Ziva remains stoic and Gibbs, Tony, and Abby can all see how this case is affecting her by the emptiness in her once lively eyes.

“That sounds about right,” Stabler interjects.

“Let’s make sure,” Gibbs states. “DiNozzo, Sachenko.”

“Yes, boss,” Tony replies reflexively.

Gibbs continues, “Stabler, bank records. Find out when she left the store. McGee, I want video.”

“On it, boss,” McGee replies as the men all disperse to begin their respective tasks. 

As Gibbs gives his orders, Abby notices Ziva’s sorrowful gaze and can’t help but worry about the emotional state of her friend. She is then both surprised and comforted when she sees that the detective who entered with Ziva also picks up on this and places a soft hand on Ziva’s back. The gentle touch forces Ziva out of her daydream and she abruptly looks up at the other woman, their eyes meeting. Olivia gives a nod and Ziva reciprocates with slight smile. Abby is shocked that the physical contact is not met with the usual attack response from Ziva. Not only is the older woman not in some kind of stronghold wincing in pain, but there’s something kind, yet vulnerable between the two them.

Gibbs turns back in time to see Olivia removing her hand from his agent and stares at Ziva for a moment, eager for something out of her. When he receives nothing, he then turns to the video, “Thanks, Abs. Let me know when you or Ducky have something.”

“Yes, sir,” Abby states with a salute and the video cuts off.

Focusing back on Ziva, Gibbs asks, “How’s Sachenko?”

Ziva starts, “She’s pretty shaken up-”

“But she’ll survive,” Olivia interjects, looking at the still wounded agent. 

The edge of Ziva’s mouth slightly curves upward and she continues, “The doctor wanted her to rest and said we can return in the morning for further questioning.”

“Okay,” Gibbs states. “And Ziver...” She finally meets his gaze as he continues, “remember what we talked about earlier.”

“I am fine, Gibbs,” she frustratingly states. Irritated at all of the probing, she storms off to get a drink of water. 

Gibbs looks at Olivia and can sense the sudden connection between the two women and can see the empathy in the detective’s eyes. Recognizing the opportunity this provides Ziva to have someone she can open up to, he quietly utters, “she told you,” more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, briefly,” Olivia replies. “We’re gonna talk more later.”

“Good, she needs it. Don’t tell me anything. She’ll tell me if and when she’s ready,” Gibbs states flashing his signature smile.

"Boss, I've got Sachenko's info," Tony offers from across the room.

"Well, what are you waiting for DiNozzo? Put it up there," retorts Gibbs.

Tony transfers an image of the victim's New York State driver's license to one of the monitors, zooming in on her face. Ziva returns to the monitors as Tony informs the enlarged team. "Natasha Sachenko, 22. Born in upstate NY. Her mother gave birth to her here while "visiting" from Russia, and her parents have since returned to the land of tsars and vodka. She currently lives alone in an apartment on Christopher Street."

"That explains why no one reported her missing all that time," Olivia adds.

Elliot hangs up his phone and announces to the room, “The vic paid with her credit card at 10:54 PM.”

“McGee,” Gibbs states.

As McGee transfers the video from the computer he is at to the array of monitors, he offers, “Boss, there’s a couple of cameras that would have caught her leaving. Ok, this traffic cam shows her exiting the store at 10:56 and it doesn't appear as she's being followed out." He frantically makes some keystrokes, putting up a new camera angle. "This shot is from an ATM on 6th--"

"There she is," Olivia interjects pointing to the Sachenko on the monitor. They watch intently as she walks out of camera view, still without any suspicious activity.

McGee switches the camera once more. "And, this one is from a security camera outside of a restaurant," he states.

Everyone watches as she appears at the bottom corner of the screen, grocery bags in each hand.

"There!" Ziva exclaims, with the most energy anyone has seen from her all day. She points out a man in the shadows at the top of the screen who's leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. "He was not following her, he was waiting for her. "

They watch impatiently as O'Donnell notices Sachenko approaching, discards his cigarette, and ducks into the nearby alleyway. Hearts pound faster as they all watch her slowly approach the entrance to the alleyway. With eyes glued on the screen, they then witness the man reach out with his tattooed, muscular arms and pull her in. Her grocery bags crash to the pavement as her head is smashed against the wall. Sachenko’s body falls limp and he drags her into the dark abyss.

"McGee, fast forward," Gibbs impatiently instructs.

McGee does as told and the time clock on the video speedily increases. 11:30 PM and still no sign of them. Midnight, nothing. 1:00, 2:00, 3:00 AM...still nothing.

"Damn," Gibbs mumbles. "Is there another way out?"

Stabler pulls up a map on a different monitor. "Yeah, he could've taken her out this way."

"McGee, video," Gibbs requests.

"Uh," McGee stumbles as he types hastily. "Um, boss, there's no camera angle covering that."

Gibbs sighs not wanting to admit defeat. "Get the images to Abby to clean up."

"On it," McGee replies as he starts on task.

"It's open and shut, boss," Tony adds in.

Gibbs walks over to Tony, invading his personal space and looking him square in the eyes. "Is that right?"

"Um, entirely your call, boss."

"DiNozzo, Stabler. See if there’s a connection between her and the other victims. David, Benson. Talk to her again. McGee, check the video in the surrounding area. He had to drive her out of there."

Looking defeated and annoyed, they break away to do as ordered, when Gibbs continues, "Tomorrow. Go home. Go to the hotel. Get some rest."

"Some rest?" Tony replies. "We're in the city that never sleeps!"

“Just make sure you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 0700, DiNozzo,” Gibbs replies as he heads out of the bullpen. As he passes Olivia, he shoots her a wink that goes unnoticed by the rest of the team.

“Yes, boss. Understood,” Tony yells back. He saunters over to Olivia who is quietly talking with Ziva. Dialing up his DiNozzo charm, he inquires, “So, maybe you can show me around this lovely city of yours?”

Ziva can’t help but chuckle at the request, resulting in a death stare from her overly horny partner.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have plans already,” Olivia replies walking back over to her desk to collect her belongings. “But, I’m sure El can take you and McGee around. It’d be a fun boys night out.”

“No problem,” interjects Stabler.

Turning to Ziva, Tony asks, “And what about you? It might help you to...unwind a bit.”

“I am fine, Tony,” Ziva retorts breaking his gaze. “And besides, I have plans.” She looks back up at her partner only to be met with a confused look.

“Plans? How can you have-”

“You ready to go, Ziva?” Olivia cuts in as she approaches the two agents, stopping very close to Ziva.

“Really?” Tony asks coyly, his imagination running wild. “This wouldn’t be a date, would it?”

The women smile at each other and chuckle, blushing ever so slightly...not enough so that it’s noticeable to anyone else, but enough so that each woman can feel the sudden warmth in their cheeks.

“It depends on how you define a date,” Ziva replies playfully. “Shall we?” she asks Olivia, reaching out her hand.

Olivia grins and takes the agent’s hand. As they begin to walk away, the two women look over their shoulders at Tony who is standing there like a deer in headlights. 

Breaking himself from his daze Tony states, “You’re playing me.” Olivia and Ziva look back at each other and laugh as they walk out of the bullpen and down the hallway. They can hear Stabler and McGee laughing as Tony shouts out, “You’re playing me, right?”

Both of the women let out another laugh. “It feels good to laugh,” Ziva admits at they approach the elevators.

“I bet it does. Hopefully, I can get you to do more of that tonight,” Olivia replies causing Ziva to blush and look away.

Ziva suddenly becomes very aware that they are still holding hands and breaks their connection to press the elevator button. Slightly flustered, she states, “Thank you for playing along.”

“Anytime.”

Unsure of how to read Olivia, Ziva continues, “Sometimes Tony deserves to be messed up.”

“I think you mean messed with.” Olivia grins as they enter the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva and Olivia walk down the long gray corridor in the detective's apartment building with take-out bags in tow. As they approach her door, Olivia fishes her keys out of her pocket.

"I'm glad you're okay with take-out. It's been a long day and this'll give us a better chance to talk and get to know each other," she says unlocking the door. She reaches in, flicks on the lights, and holds the door open for her guest, "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," Ziva replies shyly as she walks past the detective, placing her backpack on the floor and her food on the kitchen counter. Leaning against the counter with her back towards her host, Ziva uncharacteristically tenses up and grips the edge of the countertop as her nerves begin to get the better of her.

Putting her bag on the counter as well, Olivia places a soft hand on the small of the hesitant woman's back. "Hey, relax. I don't want you to think that I'm pressuring you into anything. I'm not. I'm here to listen," she says as she gently starts to rub Ziva's back. Ziva lets out a breath she did not even know that she was holding and Olivia continues, "And, you can tell me as much or as little as you like...if and when you feel ready."

Ziva looks up over her left shoulder at the older woman, flashing a small smirk. They get lost in each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity, each afraid to make a move and each wondering if the other woman is feeling what she herself is feeling. Ziva is the first to break the heated gaze, looking down to the floor with a reddening of her olive cheeks.

"It's okay," Olivia reassuringly whispers into her ear. Ziva's breath hitches at the sensation of the other woman's warmth against her skin. With another gentle stroke on her back, Olivia continues, "Like I said, no pressure. Let's eat!" With a wink and a wide smile, Olivia removes her hand and starts emptying the contents of her bag. 

Ziva immediately misses the contact and the sense of security and compassion that comes with it, but is grateful that things are going to go at her pace. While she definitely feels attracted to the detective, she hasn't been with anyone since Somalia, and quite frankly, doesn't think that she can. 

"What would you like to drink?" Olivia asks, breaking her from her reverie. "I have some white wine."

"Yes, please. I think I need it after today," her guest replies.

"Well, I'm glad I have two bottles then," Olivia states as she pulls out two glasses and generously fills them. The women carry their food and drinks to the table and sit down opposite each other. They fall into an awkward silence as they both use their food as a distraction. Olivia is the first to break the tension, "So, tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?"

"Just something about yourself. Anything," Olivia replies trying to break the ice and put her guest at ease. After a short pause, she offers, "Is your family still back in Israel?"

Ziva puts down her food and stares at her plate as she contemplates her response. "My father is still in Israel, yes, but our relationship is...complicated."

Sensing that her father might be a sensitive subject, Olivia decides to shift the conversation, "What about siblings? Do you have any?"

Ziva takes a drink of her wine and sighs as her right hand fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. "I did," she states softly avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know," the detective replies. She reaches across the table to still Ziva's hand, leaving hers gently on top.

"It is okay," Ziva says, finally looking up to meet the detective's gaze. "How could you know? You probably thought that was a safe topic. For most people, it is, yes?"

In an effort to reassure her guest, Olivia gives her hand a squeeze and admits, "It's not for me, either. My mother was an alcoholic. We didn't get along well before she died. And, I never met my father. He...raped my mother and I was the product of that rape." Ziva looks into the older woman's eyes and shifts her hand, intertwining their fingers. Olivia continues, "I think that is why I do what I do...work in special victims." 

At a loss for words, Ziva starts to draw small circles on Olivia's palm with her thumb. The detective shows her appreciation with a forced smile and continues, "I have a younger half-brother, Simon, who I met recently. He never knew the truth about our father. He's had some difficulties with the law and I haven't seen him much lately." 

Reluctantly, Olivia pulls her hand back to reach down and takes another bite of her food. Ziva immediately starts to panic internally, wondering if she has gone too far and offended the older woman with her gentle ministrations. Sensing the slight hurt in the Israeli at her withdraw, Olivia reassures her with a smile and a wink. This simple gesture quells Ziva's panic, but sends a heated flush throughout her body.

After taking several bites of food and a rather large gulp of wine, Ziva senses that it is her turn to share. She takes a breath and admits, "I had a little sister, Tali, who was killed in a Hamas suicide bombing at 16. And, I had an older half-brother, Ari. Ari was also Mossad, in fact, I was his control officer...or at least I thought I was." 

Olivia looks at her with furrowed brows, causing Ziva to elaborate. 

"I thought Ari was a good man, a good officer. I became his control officer to protect him, but..." She pauses, collecting her thoughts, before continuing, "Ari went rogue and killed an NCIS agent on Gibbs' team, Caitlin Todd. When he tried to kill Gibbs...I...I shot him." Olivia stops her consumption mid-bite and stares at Ziva in shock, who continues, "Everyone thinks that Gibbs killed Ari. No one but Gibbs, and now you, knows that it was really me." Ziva lets out an odd chuckle stating, "I have wanted, needed, to tell someone that for a very long time."

Olivia forces down the food that has been sitting in her now dry mouth. "I'm sorry you had to experience that, but I am glad that I can be that someone you can talk to," she says.

"I guess it was for the best. It turned out that Ari was actually working with Hamas and had ties to Al-Qaeda. He did what he did out of hatred towards our father." She takes the final bite of her dinner before continuing, "To be honest, I do not know how to feel about my father. He is the Director of Mossad and..." Ziva takes a moment to gather up the courage she needs to weakly continue, anger lacing her words, "He is the one that sent me on a suicide mission and left me to die in the desert."

"Hey," Olivia states, getting up out of her chair and walking over to Ziva. She places a gentle hand on her shoulder, "It's okay. Don't force it. Just take your time and when you're ready--"

"Thank you," Ziva interjects warmly, covering Olivia's hand with her own.

"C'mon. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the living room and I'll take care of this?"


	6. Chapter 6

"C'mon. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the living room and I'll take care of this?" 

As Olivia starts clearing off the table, Ziva gets up and takes her wine glass into the living room. While she's exploring the new place, her phone alerts her of a text message. She pulls out her phone and looks down to see the one word message from Abby: "Hugz". Ziva thumbs out a reply: "Thank you, Abby, but I am fine." Ziva looks up at Oliva busy in the kitchen before finishing her reply with a smile. "I really am." Almost immediately, a response comes through: "I know ur all ninja-like, but remember I'm here if u need 2 talk." Ziva grins at the message and how well Abby knows her. She replies, "Really, I am fine. Cannot talk now, at Olivia's. Will talk later." To that, Abby responds, "O, u know we will! ;-)". Ziva chuckles and blushes at the message.

Seeing Ziva on her phone, Olivia asks, "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yes," Ziva replies, putting her phone back into her pocket. "That was just Abby checking up on me."

Olivia grabs the opened wine bottle and her glass and joins her guest in the living room. Pieces start to fit together in her head, leading her to a realization, "Oh! Are you two together?"

"Together?" Ziva inquires. 

Refilling Ziva's wine glass, Olivia clarifies, "Yeah, you know, romantically involved."

"Oh, no. We are just colleagues and friends," Ziva states as she sits in the middle seat on the sofa. 

Olivia fills her own glass and places the nearly empty bottle on the coffee table. "Are you seeing, er, dating anyone?" Olivia probes further. She turns to look at the intriguing woman on her couch and cannot help but smile at where the Israeli is seated, ensuring their closeness regardless of where Olivia decides to sit.

"No. I am not." Lowering both her head and her voice, Ziva adds, "Actually, I have not been with anyone since...since it happened."

Olivia puts her own glass on the table and does the same with the agent's. She sits down on Ziva's left, her right leg tucked under the other, her body angled towards the other woman. They are so close that the detective's knees are touching the other woman's thigh. Olivia takes fidgeting hands into her own. "Look, I'm not gonna to lie to you, the fear of being with someone for the first time can be crippling, as I'm sure you know. That's a difficult hurdle to get over..." Olivia bends her head down in an unsuccessful attempt to meet the other woman's gaze. Eventually she releases a hand and gently places it on Ziva's chin, turning her head and forcing their eyes to meet. She continues, "But, once you find a partner that understands and can help you through the first time, being intimate with someone won't be so scary."

For the second time that night, they get lost in each other's chocolate eyes, but this time, Ziva places a gentle hand on the detective's leg. Olivia, with her hand still cupping the younger woman's face, brushes her thumb ever-so-slightly against eager lips. The Israeli leans into the touch, closes her eyes, and lets out a deep breath. She opens her eyes to find a similar set looking back, filled with empathy and lust. Gathering up the strength to make the first move, Ziva leans in. Slowly, the two women's lips move closer to each other and Ziva tentatively touches hers to the corner of Olivia's mouth. After a moment, Ziva pulls away just far enough so that she can look into the other woman's eyes. Olivia opens hers to meet Ziva's gaze and the caring and security that Ziva sees is enough to prove to her that this is it...that she is the one to help her through this and she would never hurt her. She sees now that she finally has someone that she can trust, even with her darkest secrets. Ziva closes the gap once more, this time meeting Olivia's waiting lips square on. In an effort to allow her guest to set the pace but still let her know that the advance is okay--wanted even, the older woman gently kisses back. Ziva places a hand behind Olivia's neck and pulls her in closer. She can feel the detective's hand rub up and down her back. The detective runs her tongue along the Israeli's lips requesting entrance. To this, Ziva not only willingly parts her lips, but takes control and thrusts her own tongue into the other woman's mouth. Their tongues engage in a slow, but passionate battle until they are interrupted by Ziva's phone. The agent lets out a groan as she reluctantly breaks apart their lips and rests her forehead against the other woman's. 

"I am sorry, but I should check that. It could be work." Ziva states. 

"That's okay," Olivia replies running the back of her fingers down the younger woman's cheek. "I understand the job."

Ziva gives her a quick peck on the lips and fishes out her phone. "What a hog!" she exclaims as she looks at her phone.

"Excuse me?"

"Tony," Ziva spits out in disgust. 

"Oh, you mean pig," Olivia corrects. "What a pig!"

"Yes, that too."

Olivia chuckles and asks, "So, what did he do now?"

Ziva shows her the text message from Tony: I hope I'm not interrupting, I just wanted to see how your date is going. Who am I kidding? I do hope I'm interrupting...maybe a little slap n tickle. 

"He has impeccable timing," Olivia states.

Ziva laughs and replies, "That he does." 

"So, how is our date going?" Olivia asks smoothly. 

"It is unlike anything I have ever experienced before."

"And, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Olivia questions. 

Ziva reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind the other woman's ear. "It is most definitely a good thing." She turns away from Olivia and gently leans back into the other woman. Olivia's arms wrap around her instinctively and pull her even closer. Ziva holds up her phone in outstretched arms and snaps a picture of them together. "But, two can play at this game," she states as she sends Tony the photo. She follows it up with a reply: You did interrupt us. But, I will let you try and figure out just what it was that you interrupted. 

"Oh, that's evil," Olivia states with a laugh. "Knowing Tony, that should get him all hot and bothered."

Ziva receives a reply from Tony: Let me know if you need any assistance. 

At this, Olivia asks for the phone, which Ziva willingly turns over. Olivia thumbs out a reply: This is Liv. Actually, we seem to be handling ourselves just fine. The only assistance we may need would come in the form of something silicone...

"And you said I was evil," Ziva exclaims with a chuckle. 

"I just couldn't resist," Olivia replies. "He walked right into it."

"That is true," Ziva replies while stroking the arms crossed over her midsection. 

Another response comes in from Tony: Oh, I can just watch. I don't mind. 

The women laugh at the text but do not reply. In return, Ziva's phone starts to beep incessantly as a flood of short texts come flooding in, ranging from "Please" to "I'll be good" to "I promise I'll just look" to "Just help a guy out." Ziva quickly gets annoyed, switches off her phone, and tosses it on the coffee table. "Remind me to turn that back on later or Gibbs will have my arm," Ziva states. 

"What?" she asks coyly when she hears and feels Olivia chuckle under her breath. 

"It's ‘have your ass,’" the detective replies. "But, I think that if anyone is going to be doing anything to your ass tonight, it'll be me."


	7. Chapter 7

The two women remain cuddling on the detective's couch, with Olivia leaning back against the armrest and Ziva with her back pressed up against her. Olivia's arms are wrapped around the smaller woman protectively. Both women are staring up at the ceiling, reveling in the comfort and warmth of each other. 

The once comfortable silence starts to make the agent uneasy and she begins to fidget with her hands. 

"Can...can I ask you something?" Ziva inquires hesitantly.

"Of course," the detective replies, gently stroking the other woman's arms in an effort to relax her. 

"You said before that you were assaulted while undercover. What happened?" Embarrassed, Ziva begins to quickly backtrack, "I am sorry. That is very personal. You do not have to tell me and I should not have--"

Stilling fidgeting hands with her own, Olivia cuts off the babbling Israeli. "Hey. It's okay. If hearing what happened to me helps you to feel more comfortable with talking about what happened to you, then so be it. I just want to help you."

Ziva sits up and turns to face the older woman. "Why are you so eager to help me? We just met today."

Sitting up to regain some of their closeness, Oliva attempts to explain, "Well, I guess it's for a couple of reasons. I don't like to see anyone hurting. And, if my experience can be used for good to help someone...” Olivia pauses, collecting her thoughts. Taking the other woman's hands in her own, she continues, "Besides, I feel like there's something between us...some kind of connection. I think you feel it, too."

"I do."

Olivia leans in and kisses Ziva briefly on the lips. "C'mere," she says as she lies back down on the couch, pulling the other woman with her. 

Ziva snuggles on her side into Olivia's shoulder. As the detective's arms wrap securely around the Israeli once again, Ziva's free hand finds a resting place on Olivia's chest, playing with the gold pendant on her necklace. 

After a pause and a sigh, Olivia begins to recollect her assault. "It was two years ago. While investigating the sexual and physical assault of a young woman, we learned that the man responsible for the attack was a prison guard at a women's correctional facility where the vic's mother was being held. He was assaulting the mother as well and she refused to cooperate in our investigation for fear of retaliation. He used his badge to steal the daughter's rape kit, and any evidence we had against him was gone.

"I went undercover as an inmate to try and figure out which guard it was. My first day in, the mother was found dead in her cell. He made it look like a suicide. Later, I got in an argument with one of the guards because we were on lockdown and they wouldn't tell us anything. A disturbance broke out and the guard cuffed me and took me away, saying I was going into solitary.” After a slight pause, she continues, her voice weaker than before. "Except he wasn't bringing me in that direction...he was taking me to the basement. He took me into a secluded room and led me over to where there was a bed. Luckily, he decided to uncuff me and I took the opportunity to fight...harder than I've ever fought before.” 

Sensing her hesitation at continuing, Ziva reaches up and places a gentle hand on the older woman's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin there. 

Olivia gives her a squeeze in return, extracting the strength she needs to continue. "I got away and tried to hide but he found me and...he beat me with his nightstick. I tried to run away, but all the doors were locked. I screamed and screamed for help but no one could hear me.” She takes a deep breath as a tear falls down her cheek. She continues with a shaky voice, "He caught up to me again and cuffed me to a door. I was trapped, sitting there on the floor between him and the door. He...he dropped his pants and...forced his penis into my mouth, saying he'd kill me if I bit him.” She pauses in an effort to regain her composure, as a few tears stream down her face. 

Ziva leans up to face the other woman, her own eyes wet. She gently wipes the tears from the older woman's face and places her forehead against Olivia's. 

The detective continues, "It was then that another detective who was undercover as a guard came in and stopped him.” She places a shaky hand on the agent's cheek, a chaste kiss to her lips, and sighs. 

"I am sorry...I do not know what else to say," Ziva sadly states squeezing the other woman and nuzzling into her neck. 

"It's okay," the detective replies holding the Israeli tightly and placing a kiss to her cheek. "You don't have to say anything.”

They stay nestled into one another for several moments. Then, a small smirk appears on Olivia's face before she adds, "It felt so good later to be able to arrest that son-of-a-bitch myself."

"I bet it did," Ziva states. "Did that help...give you some closure?"

"In a way, yeah," Olivia replies. "After it happened, I felt powerless, but arresting him...making sure that he would be held accountable for his crimes, abolished any control he still had over me. I now had the power.” After a pause, she adds in, "It didn't stop me from hurting, but I know he's in prison and can't touch me again."

With her face still nestled into the crook of Olivia's neck, Ziva quietly states, "Gibbs shot Saleem, the leader of the terrorist camp.” 

Olivia begins to gently rub the Israeli's back, encouraging her to continue. 

"I will never forget seeing him fall to the ground...that cold look in his eyes, lying there with his head in a pool of his own blood. I stared in shock and do you know what I thought?" she asks, her voice breaking. 

"What did you think?" Olivia asks gently as she feels a tear run down the sensitive skin of her neck. 

With anger lacing her weak voice, Ziva states, "All I could think was: This is not fair. It was too quick, too painless. I wanted to make him suffer...he deserved to suffer for what he did.” Ziva breaks down into a sob against the detective's neck. 

"It's okay, honey, I've got you," Olivia consoles as she holds the woman tighter in her arms. "What matters is that he can't hurt you anymore."

They stay in each other's hold as Ziva slowly begins to regain her composure. Suddenly, she pulls out of the hold and jumps off the couch. "I am sorry. I have to go," the agent states frantically, wiping her tear-stricken face with the back of her hand and looking around the room for any belongings.

"Ziva, wait!" Olivia jumps off the couch just as quickly and rushes over to stand in the flustered woman's way. "Look at me."

Ziva stops in front of her, but does not make eye contact, instead staring intently at the floor. "I cannot," she whispers. "I have to go," she adds but makes no effort to move. 

"Ziva, look, you're free to go at any time, but please don't leave because you are scared.” Olivia steps closer to Ziva, taking the woman's quivering hands into her own. "It's okay to cry. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to be upset. Feeling this way, showing emotion, it doesn't make you weak...don't ever think that.” 

Ziva slowly raises her head, her watery eyes meeting Olivia's gaze. "I am sorry," she weakly states. 

Olivia reaches up to push some errant strands of hair behind Ziva's left ear. "No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Cupping her face, the older woman continues, "You are so unbelievably strong. You survived. You're here now with me trying to work through this. That takes so much strength."

Tears break free and fall from Ziva's brown eyes. "Then why do I feel so weak?" she asks sadly. 

"You're not weak," Olivia counters. "You're just scared. And, it is totally understandable to be scared right now.” She drops her hands from the younger woman's face to her shoulders. "Were you scared to tell me about your brother?"

Ziva nods in the affirmative. 

"But you overcame that fear and told me anyway. And, how did you feel afterwards?" Olivia asks. 

"Relieved."

"You felt better once you got it off your chest. What you went through in that camp was truly horrible and you've kept it to yourself...kept your emotions bottled up for so long that the thought of finally letting someone in seems daunting."

Breaking eye contact once again, she replies, "I was trained to never show any emotion, to anyone."

"For that, I'm sorry. But, you're no longer in Mossad...and your father is thousands of miles away.” Ziva picks up her head at the mention of her father, meeting the older woman's gaze with tears once again threatening to break free. Olivia continues, "I'm sure that your father knows you're alive...that you were strong enough to survive the torture...even if he doesn't show it."

With that comment, Ziva's tears begin to fall freely and she steps into the other woman, wrapping her arms around her waist. Olivia holds her tightly, trying to soothe her by stroking her dark hair. 

"Thank you," Ziva whispers. "This all just seems so foreign to me. I have always had to hold back my emotions.” She brushes her lips against Olivia's before resting her forehead against hers and continuing, "And, hide my true feelings."

"There's no reason to hide anymore.” Olivia takes her face into her hands. "Especially not with me. This isn't gonna scare me away or make me think any less of you."

At that, Ziva closes the small gap between their lips with a kiss overflowing with emotion, a culmination of thirty-something odd years of protective walls suddenly shattered by one woman in one day.


	8. Chapter 8

Tongues tangle in a battle for dominance. When air becomes a necessity, the younger woman breaks the kiss only to pepper kisses along Olivia's jaw. The detective moans in delight at the sensation. Ziva moves her attention to Olivia's ear, where she asks, her voice an octave lower than usual, "Where is your bedroom?"

The detective suddenly pulls back enough to look her in the eyes. "Zee, we don't have to do this."

"I want to," she replies. Then, she begins to get nervous again and continues, "Unless you do not want to?"

"Trust me, I want to!" Olivia quickly reassures. "I just don't want to rush you if you aren't ready."

"I think that I am as ready as I will ever be. I want to do this. And, I want to do this with you."

"But, that still doesn't mean that it has to be tonight. Look, I know that we haven't talked about us moving forward...but, I don't want this to end here, with this case. I want to figure out a way to make this work."

"I would like that, too," Ziva states quietly. "But, I want to do this. I want to have this with you before...before you know the truth. Before it changes how you see me and you no longer want to--"

Olivia puts a finger to the Israeli's lips, halting her speech. "Listen to me. There's no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. Nothing that happened will lessen my desire to be intimate with you."

"Thank you," Ziva says placing a gentle hand on the other woman's chest, just above the neckline of her blouse. "But, please, can you just give me this?"

Olivia brings her hands up to cup the shorter woman's face and looks down into her eyes. She gently nods her head and adds, "But if, at any time, you feel uncomfortable...or anything...just say the word and I'll stop. I mean that, okay?"

"Okay," Ziva quietly states.

Ziva leans in and gently presses her lips against the older woman's. Olivia allows the kiss, but does not move any further, allowing the necessary time for Ziva to relax and determine the pace. After several moments, the agent deepens the kiss, grabs a fistful of Olivia's shirt, and pulls her closer. Sensing that it would now be appropriate to reciprocate, Olivia threads her hands through the Israeli's luscious curls. As the situation begins to heat up further, Ziva breaks the kiss and leans up on her toes to rest their foreheads together.

"So...that bedroom of yours?" Ziva asks, her voice deep with lust.

Olivia takes her hand and leads her down the short hallway to the bedroom. Both women's heart rate begins to rapidly increase at the prospect of what will occur.

Olivia flips on the light and pulls Ziva across the threshold into her modest bedroom. She stops and turns to face the Israeli, her hands lifting to cradle the younger woman's face. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes," Ziva states quietly, leaning in to close the gap, desperate lips meeting in a gentle kiss.

While both women have lust in their eyes, each displays a level of tentativeness in her actions: Ziva, nervous as to if she will be able to physically and emotionally make it through her first time since her brutal torture while in captivity; and Olivia, cautious in her touch so as not to trigger a flashback in the younger woman.

Ziva brushes her tongue along the other woman's upper lip, requesting entrance, to which Olivia gladly obliges. As their kiss intensifies, Ziva lifts her hands to the detective's hips. She begins to work her way under her blouse and around to her taut stomach. Olivia lets out a small moan into the other woman's mouth at the touch. The Israeli grabs the hem of Olivia's blouse and pulls away from the kiss, their gaze thick with a spectrum of emotions. Slowly, she begins to lift the blouse. Olivia raises her arms to facilitate the process and soon the shirt is lying in a heap on the floor. Ziva steals several moments to take in the unblemished, tanned torso in front of her and her eyes pause at the sight of the detective's voluptuous breasts threatening to escape from her black, lace bra. Her hands return to the exposed flesh of the older woman's stomach and slowly work their way up her sides until they reach the barrier of material. She runs the back of her fingers along the underside of the lacy cups until they meet between the woman's two mounds. She proceeds to glide up and over along the smooth skin adorning the tops of her breasts before leaning in to place open-mouthed kisses to the exposed skin.

Olivia's breath hitches at the sensation and she entwines her fingers deeper into dark curls.

While continuing her oral assault, Ziva reaches behind the detective to nimbly unclasp her bra. Moving up to the older woman's shoulders, the lsraeli places her hands atop Olivia's bra straps and pushes them down her arms, discarding the offending garment. Ziva then takes a small step back, openly admiring the half-naked beauty before her eyes.

"You are perfect," Ziva whispers as her hands gravitate to the newly exposed flesh.

Olivia, in lieu of a reply, leans in and takes the agent's bottom lip between her own, their kiss quickly intensifying.

Craving the feel of skin-to-skin contact, Ziva shifts her attention to her crimson dress shirt. She begins with the bottom button, but her trembling fingers make clumsy work of it. Olivia immediately notices this and lovingly places her hands over struggling ones. Lifting them to her mouth, she places a gentle kiss to each set of knuckles.

"Let me?" Olivia asks gently.

Ziva nods and the other woman slowly brings her hands to the bottom button of the agent's shirt. Taking her time and never breaking eye contact, she gently works her way up. As she releases each button, she can hear Ziva's breath become shakier. When she finishes with the final button, she leaves the shirt closed and cups the woman's cheek with her right hand.

"When you're ready," Olivia states softly.

Ziva, being braless, takes several deep breaths preparing herself for the first big hurdle. She nods for the other woman to continue.

Olivia places a finger on the Israeli's sternum and gently runs it down the length of her torso, slightly parting her shirt and exposing a sliver of marked skin underneath. She raises her gaze back to Ziva's eyes assuring that she portrays no pity for this woman.

Ziva closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. She meets dark eyes with her own and gives another affirmative nod to which Olivia slowly pushes the agent's shirt back off her shoulders and down to the floor.

Olivia takes a brief moment to absorb the image in front of her: the magnificently radiant olive skin, the visible musculature of a toned abdomen, the perky breasts that she knows will fit perfectly in her hands, and then the scars. Her eyes naturally gravitate to the most prominent of the scars: a raised, pink welt from a burn in the shape of a chain that wraps around her waist. There are numerous other scars in varying shapes and sizes and then the remainder of her skin is littered with a myriad of cigarette burns. Not wanting to make Ziva feel any more uncomfortable, Olivia brings her eyes back up to meet frightened ones looking back.

"You are beautiful," Olivia states with conviction.

Ziva drops her gaze. "They are...I am...hideous," she replies shyly.

"Look at me," Olivia commands while turning the smaller woman's chin up with her hand. When Ziva's eyes meet her own, she continues. "You are still beautiful...so, so beautiful. You know, when I was looking at you just now, the first thing that I noticed was your vibrant skin," she states raising her other hand to place it gently on Ziva's hip. She brushes it along her stomach causing the agent to take a sharp intake of air, and continues, "Your amazing abs," before moving her hand up to the top of her breast, "and your perfect breasts. Yes, you have scars, but what I see when I look at them is your unbelievable strength." She leans down and places a gentle kiss to a scar. "Trust me when I tell you this: you are gorgeous."

Ziva, with a sole tear escaping down her cheek, smiles at the other woman and crashes their lips together.

Olivia pulls her in closer, letting her hands roam the bare skin of the Israeli's back. The sheer number of raised scars that the detective feels during this exploration of skin unsettles her, but she is determined not to let it show. She continues to allow her hands to roam until she begins to feel herself being pushed backwards.

The women stumble as the back of Olivia's legs hit the edge of the bed, resulting in a chuckle and the clash of teeth. Ziva takes command and pushes Olivia back onto the bed, quickly crashing down on top of her. Mouths once again meet in a desperate kiss.

After several heated moments, Ziva pulls away from the kiss and moves down lower on the other woman, placing open-mouthed kisses along the detective's collarbone and chest. She moves farther down and captures Olivia's right nipple into her mouth, as her right hand begins to play with the other nipple.

"Mmm, Zee," Olivia moans as the agent brushes her teeth against her erect nub. The older woman's hands naturally weave into dark curls, holding her close.

Ziva looks up at her with a devilish smirk and releases the nipple from her mouth with a pop. Using her tongue, she paints a trail slowly down to the other woman's pants. When she reaches the barrier, Ziva leans up off the other woman and unbuttons her pants. Olivia raises her hips to aid in the process and Ziva, standing up, hastily removes both the woman's pants and panties in one swift motion.

Olivia sits up at the edge of the bed and pulls Ziva close between her parted legs. She scatters kisses across the other woman's scarred stomach, as her hands follow close behind. When her hands reach Ziva's button on her pants, she pauses and looks up at chocolate eyes.

"May I?" the older woman asks.

"Yes," Ziva replies softly running a hand through the other woman's straight brown hair.

Olivia shifts her gaze back to eye level at the task before her. Slowly, she unfastens the button and opens the zipper, revealing black panties underneath. She again looks up for and receives approval to continue, so she places her hands on Ziva's hips and gently pushes the garment to the floor. The detective notices the plethora of scars adorning the Israeli's legs, especially her upper and inner thighs, but forces her gaze to stay on the last remaining physical barrier between them. In an effort to ease her into this, Olivia reaches out to place a soft hand on the upper part of the woman's panties. Ziva releases a low gasp and a slight jerk which do not go unnoticed by the older woman.

"It's okay," Olivia soothes. "I promise I won't hurt you."

"I know," Ziva states. "Just...give me a moment."

"Of course, Zee," she replies, taking the younger woman's hands into her own. "Take as much time as you need. And, if you want to stop for now--"

"No!" the agent quickly interjects. "I do not want to stop. I just need a moment to prepare."

Olivia nods her head and keeps her caring gaze on the younger woman.

After a minute, Ziva releases the other woman's hands to lift her own to her panties, hooking her thumbs in the waistband. She pauses there momentarily, mustering the willpower to continue. Clumsily, she pushes them down to her feet, steps out, and kicks the discarded garments to the side.

Olivia takes the Israeli's hands in her own and looks up into her eyes. The rising heat within her core is telling her to pull her down and ravish her on the bed, but her mind knows better. She knows she must continue to relinquish all power and control to this woman if they are going to do this.

"Ziva, you are so beautiful," she states with conviction.

The corner of Ziva's mouth curves upwards slightly. She takes Olivia's hand and places it over her abdomen. With her hands on top, she slowly guides the detective's hand down until they reach a mound of short curls, where warm hands remain over an even warmer center.

Sensing that it is still too soon for her hands to venture deep between the Israeli's legs, she begins to move her hands off to the side and down her strong thighs, sensually stroking knotted flesh. Olivia hears the other woman's breath start to pick up pace and she boldly leans forward and places an open-mouth kiss to the mound before her.

Ziva immediately moans and grasps the seated woman's head with both hands, encouraging her to continue.

Olivia continues to kiss the expanse of skin housing the short curls, her hands running the backs of Ziva's thighs before finding their home on the younger woman's firm ass. At this, Ziva pulls the older woman's head even closer against her, slightly bucking her hips in addition.

The detective, seeing this as permission to continue, reaches down and lifts up Ziva's left leg onto her shoulder. She turns her head to the side and places tantalizing kisses to the Israeli's inner thigh while sensually stroking the back of her leg. She then leans forward, lowers her head, and raises her chin up, placing a kiss deep between the agent's legs.

After receiving an additional moan for her efforts, Olivia extends her tongue and slowly runs it along the entire outer length of her folds. The agent reflexively thrusts her hips into the other woman's face, surprised when a nose brushes against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Unable to resist any further, Olivia once again runs the length of her folds, but this time she strokes between them tasting the other woman's juices.

"Mmmm," Olivia mumbles into heated flesh. She takes a couple slow licks across her opening before circling the other woman's swollen nub with her tongue.

"Oh," Ziva moans at the contact.

Olivia flicks her tongue against the Israeli's engorged sex and feels her leg muscles twitch at the sensation.

"I cannot--" Ziva states breathily as she removes her leg from the other woman's shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" Olivia immediately interjects, pulling her head and hands away. "Did I--"

Ziva cuts her off by pressing their lips together, both hands cradling her face. "No," she states breaking the kiss. She chuckles and continues, "I was going to tell you that I could not stand anymore. It has been a long time since anyone has done that. I was, how do you say, weak in the thighs."

Olivia grins from ear to ear. "Did anyone ever tell you how utterly adorable you are?"

"I got it wrong, yes?"

"It's 'weak in the knees.' But you were close," Olivia replies.

"And, no. No one has ever called me adorable," Ziva states shyly.

"You are," Olivia replies. The detective places her hands back on the slender hips of the woman in front of her. She adds, "And, you are strong. And sexy--"

Olivia's words suddenly get cut off by warm lips meeting hers. Once again, Ziva pushes the older woman back on the bed and Olivia scoots up towards the head of the bed. The Israeli follows close behind and holds herself up, hovering over the detective. Looking deep into the other woman's eyes, Ziva moves one leg between Olivia's and slowly lowers her hips down against her. Both women moan at the contact. The agent leans down for a heated kiss. As if on reflex, Ziva's hips gently grind down on Olivia's, the increased pressure causing a rush to the core of each woman.

Olivia, with her hands gently roaming the agent's back, sees this as a green flag to continue and applies a small amount of force, pulling the younger woman closer. Ziva allows the touch and pushes her thigh harder against Olivia's core, the sudden feeling of warm wetness on her thigh encouraging her to continue grinding. Olivia, while moving in perfect rhythm, slowly raises her leg to press against Ziva where she knows that she needs it the most.

Ziva moans at the intensified contact, breaking the kiss. She leans down and takes Olivia's nipple into her mouth, nibbling on the erect nub. She releases her nipple and shifts her weight slightly so that she can hold herself above Olivia with one arm. She snakes her free hand between them and straight to the detective's warm center in need of release. Ziva runs two fingers through the older woman's juices before inserting them into her pulsating core. She begins thrusting her fingers in and out of the warm velvet, matching the rhythm of her hips and using her thigh for additional leverage.

"Oh, Zee," Olivia moans.

With hips still in perfect harmony, the older woman runs her hand slowly down Ziva's body and maneuvers it between short curls and the pool of juices on her own thigh. She immediately feels the smaller woman stiffen at the touch.

"Look at me," Olivia states with conviction.

Ziva looks deep into chocolate eyes and her body relaxes. Without breaking eye contact, Olivia uses a finger to part warm lips and strokes the length of her sex, spreading the slick fluid before focusing her attention solely on Ziva's bundle of nerves.

Ziva releases a deep moan and her eyes start to flutter closed.

"Keep your eyes open," Olivia stresses. "Stay with me."

Ziva does as told and picks up the pace of her motions. A light sheen of sweat starts to appear on the olive skin of both women and the room fills with the sound of heavy breaths and whimpers.

It doesn't take long for the women to climax in near unison.

Ziva collapses on top of Olivia, her head falling to the side as she pants into Olivia's shoulder.

"Wow," Ziva exhales. "Thank you."

"Mmm. You're very welcome," Olivia replies with a smirk.

Olivia, seeing the expanse of olive skin on display before her, succumbs to temptation and places an open mouthed kiss on Ziva's neck. Immediately, the other woman jerks and before she knows it, both of Olivia's hands are in a stronghold above her head and a there's a forearm against her throat.

"Ziva," the detective squeezes out calmly. "Zee, it's me, Liv."

Ziva looks down at the face below her with cold, distant eyes and increases the pressure on her neck.

Recognizing that although the Israeli is looking towards her, she is not really seeing her, Olivia doesn't physically push back but tries again to reach her. "Ziva, honey, look at me. Look into my eyes. It's Liv. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly, Ziva's eyes begin to show signs of recognition until she suddenly realizes the position that the other woman is in.

"I-I am sorry," Ziva stutters. She quickly releases the other woman and starts to move off of Olivia.

"No," Olivia interjects, while reaching out to hold the other woman in place on top of her. "It's okay."

"No, it is not," Ziva replies laced with anger.

"Yes, it is," Olivia stresses. "I understand. I know that you wouldn't intentionally hurt me."

"But, I could have hurt you...killed you."

"But, you didn't. I'm okay," Olivia continues, reaching a hand up to gently cup the Israeli's cheek. "You came back to me."

"I hurt you," Ziva states with conviction. "How is that any different from them?"

"Zee, honey, it's different." Olivia continues with emotion weighing her words, "They hurt us without remorse. They took from us what we did not want to give. They forced us to do things that we didn't want to do. But, you," the detective continues, running her hand along Ziva's face. "You were gentle and caring with me. We did this together. You had a flashback. Your body was convinced that you were back in that camp and you reacted. It was a reflex. That is common among survivors. And, when you broke from your flashback, you were remorseful. You are nothing like them." Olivia leans up to kiss Ziva. "And, don't worry. This doesn't change anything between us."

"Liv, what did I ever do to deserve you?" Ziva kisses the woman once more and rests her body down on top of the detective's, her head nestled in the crook of the other woman's neck.


End file.
